Fourth of July
by Anoveldebut
Summary: The Colonel is having a rough week, and his team tries to help. Can Jack survive their good intentions long enough to make it through?


**Disclaimer: I have no real claim on any of this, including the holiday. It just popped into my head and demanded to be shared. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **A/N: Set before Janet's death, season 7.**

 **Reviews are always welcome, though response times may very.**

* * *

 **Fourth of July**

It had been a long week for the Colonel. A long, hot, unforgivable-climate sort of week, with alien insects, unspeakable amounts of grit and dust, and the every day risk of heat stroke.

And for what? Daniel had found some rocks. Some old, crumbling, illegible rocks, emitting just enough of an energy signature to pique Carter's interest.

So to recap, it had been a _helluva_ long week, and Jack O'Neill was spent. All he wanted, for the next three days, was to drink cold beer, in his underwear, on his air conditioned couch. No interruptions. No crises. Just cold air and cold beer and a whole lot of the kind of nothing he enjoyed best.

"Jack!," Daniel called, racing to catch up as he made his way toward the surface.

"I'm not here," he growled, never turning around.

"Jack, wait up!," the archaeologist cried, giving an extra burst of speed so that he just about collided with the cranky, over-heated Colonel.

"Make it fast, Daniel," he snapped. "I'm off the clock and there's a beer at home with my name on it."

"It's the fourth of July."

"So?"

"Soooo, Teal'c's never seen the fireworks. We've always been off-world."

"Well, you two have fun then," he said, hitting the button for the surface.

"Sam's coming too," Daniel continued.

"Sounds like a real party," Jack said, laying on the sarcasm. "But in case you've forgotten, I've just spent the last four days living it up with you geeks, and all I really want right now is to go home and _rest_."

"You should come," the archaeologist countered. "You're Air Force. Isn't it your sworn duty to show a certain level of patriotism?"

"Not this week."

"Jack! Please."

"Have a nice weekend, Daniel," he replied, slipping into the elevator and allowing the doors to slide shut in the younger man's face.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

It wasn't something they ever spoke of, or even something they knew for sure. But the members of SG-1 strongly suspected there was a reason they always worked the fourth of July.

The Colonel wrangled time off for them at Christmas and Thanksgiving, and even made sure they had a day off for each of their birthdays most years. But always, always, without fail, they missed the fourth of July.

The first year, they missed it by three days, negotiating a peaceful trade agreement for new medicinal herbs. The second year, they missed it by a day, taking the long way back to the 'gate to avoid suspected enemy patrols. Year three they were embroiled in a diplomatic dispute between two neighbouring factions and missed the festivities by nearly a week, but SG-1 had begun to sense a pattern by then.

These weren't their ordinary sort of missions, after all.

And with every passing year, and every missed celebration, their suspicions had only grown.

It had to be personal. Something to do with the Colonel's life before he'd joined the Stargate program, and something he clearly did not want to discuss.

Again, they all had their suspicions, but no one said a word.

This year, however, there'd been a snag. The SGC was on stand-down while 'Gate diagnostics and general maintenance took place, and the Colonel's mood had turned decidedly bleak.

So they'd pitched a research mission to the General, in the hopes that he'd accept. They'd even gone so far as to make it sound more interesting than it really was, just to get the go ahead.

Anything to keep the Colonel from one of his truly black moods.

By some miracle, Hammond had agreed, possibly having caught on to the same pattern they themselves wished to uphold. Only the planet had turned out to be even less interesting than they'd thought, and despite their best delay tactics, Jack had pulled the plug early.

Much to their mutual consternation, they'd made it home bright and early on the fourth.

And Jack's mood was definitely turning black.

It had been Sam's idea to send Daniel after the Colonel. He did have a soft spot for the archaeologist, after all.

But that plan had failed.

Daniel had tried pulling the Teal'c card, knowing what it meant to the Colonel to share the best Earth has to offer with their Jaffa friend, but that, too, had been a bust.

Hell, even the Sam-will-be-there lure had failed, as had the 'sworn duty' approach, and now all three knew for certain that there was something wrong.

"What are we going to do?," Sam asked intently, staring the guys down.

"Would it not be wise to allow O'Neill the opportunity to grieve in private?," Teal'c countered.

"He can't keep beating himself up forever," Daniel argued. "If this holiday meant something to his son, then he should celebrate in memory of Charlie. Not wallow."

"We can't tell him we know," Sam cautioned. They all knew she was right. This was one topic that was always one hundred percent off-limits for discussion, and they all respected that.

"He'd be furious if we brought the celebration to him," Daniel mused. "But he won't come voluntarily, either."

"I still say we'd be better off finding a way to keep him distracted," Sam countered. "That's always been his preference."

"What of your father?," Teal'c asked solemnly.

"My _dad_?," Sam asked. "What help could he be?"

"Perhaps a collaboration with the Tok'ra could take O'Neill's mind off this day."

Daniel snorted. "And blacken his mood for the rest of the _month_. Next."

"There's always Thor. One of his famous beam-outs might do the trick," Sam suggested.

"Not exactly the best use of resources for the Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet," Daniel pointed out. "Besides, at some point he does need to _face_ the day. Better with friends who _care_ , than alone with beer."

Sam pondered for a moment, then smiled.

"Uh-oh," Daniel muttered.

* * *

Underwear. Beer. Couch.

 _Nothing_ could be better right now.

Jack's doorbell rang.

He ignored it.

It rang again.

"Go away!," Jack yelled.

Whoever it was mashed the button down, creating one continuous headache for the Colonel.

" _WHAT?!,_ " he finally snapped, lurching angrily off the couch and throwing open the door.

"Hi," Cassie greeted, beaming.

Underwear. _Crap._

Jack shut the door, high-tailing it to his room for clothes. He could hear Cassie let herself in.

"Can I have one?," she asked, pointing to his beer as he re-emerged.

"No."

Cassie shrugged. Jack counted to ten.

"What brings you over?," he asked, already suspecting the answer.

"A girl can't visit her favourite Colonel?," she asked sweetly.

Jack counted to twenty. "Not today."

"So why'd you answer the door, if you don't want company?"

Jack bit his tongue, counting to fifty. "They put you up to this, didn't they?"

"Who put me up to what?," she countered innocently.

"I'll double whatever they gave you if you get out now."

"Deal!," she said, eyes lighting up.

Jack sighed. Of course they'd been generous.

Handing the teen a wad of cash, he ushered her out, shutting the door firmly in her wake. He drained his beer.

If his team was getting involved, underwear no longer seemed like such a good idea.

* * *

"How'd it go?," Sam asked hopefully.

"He's on to you," the teen replied, grabbing a snack. "And he pays _really_ well when he doesn't want company."

Sam sighed.

* * *

The best course of action was to go where they couldn't find him.

Somewhere they'd never even think to look.

And naturally, that meant doing the one thing Jack absolutely did not want to do. He joined the eager crowd of patriotic countrymen, picked a spot, and waited. He hadn't watched the fireworks in years. Not since...

Well. It was just a show.

He'd been through worse.

As the sky darkened and the crowd grew, Jack watched the other families, with their kids and dogs and paraphernalia.

That'd been him, once. Minus the dog.

Someone sat down beside him. He didn't need to look to know who.

"How'd you find me?," he asked, watching as a little boy chased his father in a lively game of monster tag.

"We didn't," Daniel confessed. "We gave up and came without you. But here you are."

"Yes. Here I am."

"We have beer," Daniel offered. "And cake."

Jack's lips twitched ruefully. "And better company than I have here, I suppose."

"Naturally."

Jack sighed. "So help me, Daniel..."

"Not a word," he promised, standing up.

"Fine," Jack grumbled, climbing stiffly to his feet.

Joining the others, they passed around their drinks, chips and cake, Cassie and Janet rounding out their group for an almost family feel.

Hell, who was he kidding? This had become as much his family as anyone else had ever been.

And if he was honest with himself, it felt good to be out, sharing the night with his 'kids'. Even if his heart did still ache with every booming flash.

At least he could honestly say it was the best display he'd seen in years.


End file.
